


Occupy

by yeaka



Category: Red Riding Hood (2011)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Multi, Vaginal Sex, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 02:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21206201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Henry goes to visit Valerie and finds her busy.





	Occupy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Red Riding Hood or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Henry knows that she’s heartbroken, that she’s never quite gotten over losing both her father and her lover, and in a way, he understands that. He was devastated when the wolf killed his father too. But he found solace in his mother and his friends, and he wishes the same for Valerie. He wishes she would come back into the village, instead of the lone house outside their walls, just on the edge of the forest. It makes it more difficult to visit, but Henry does visit on occasion, because a part of him has fallen for her, and she deserves some company. He brings her a basket of fresh crops from the market—something she doesn’t get too often. A blanket protects those wares from the frost, but his coat doesn’t do enough to help his skin. He shivers as he plods through the snow.

Her grandmother’s old house looms up in the distance, and Henry trudges towards it, catching eerie snippets on the wind. Sometimes, he thinks he can still hear the wolf’s howl—but he tells himself it’s not _that_ wolf. There have been no more sacrifices and no more grisly deaths. Their problem’s gone. He could swear he hears a feral cry.

A few more heavy steps, and Valerie’s voice breaks, a strangled scream piercing the gentle evening glow of the woods. Henry’s body stiffens, his blood running cold, and then he rushes forward, panting breath turning to ice before him.

He rounds the back of the house and hears another noise, this time a languid moan. Henry trips over a buried branch and stumbles back to his feet, forgetting his basket—there are more important things. Valerie gasps, “_Peter_—”

Henry’s pace slows. He doesn’t understand. Now he can hear a plethora of other noises—a faint slapping sound, something wet, the deep growl of a man and Valerie’s breathy groans. It doesn’t sound like she’s in pain anymore. He finally rounds the corner and sees her, spread out across the white snow, pillowed on her red cloak. Peter bends over her, perched between her legs, thrusting in and ducking to cover her mouth in a long, full kiss. 

Henry’s too far way to see their tongues meet, but he knows that’s happening. He watches Valerie’s bare knees cling to his middle, her delicate hands pawing at his back, desperately holding on. Her dress is hiked up around her thighs, her hair scattered around her head. She looks every bit as beautiful as he remembers. Peter devours her with hungry kisses and fierce thrusts that leave her mewling deliciously. 

Despite the frigid whether, Henry’s cheeks heat up uncomfortably. Valerie’s pale skin is flushed in so many places, pink in the shape of handprints where Peter’s clearly held on. But Valerie must love it, because when Peter tries to pull away, she yanks him back down by his hair and arches up into his mouth. 

Transfixed, Henry’s torn. He knows that he should leave—she’s clearly not in distress, and this is something private, but he can’t seem to get his legs to move. He can’t turn his eyes away. Peter hisses into Valerie’s parted lips and bucks forward, grinding down—Valerie clutches tighter and moans deep in her throat. The sound is absolutely _filthy_, and the sight of it is worse. Henry can’t see any details, but it’s still affecting him. Then the unthinkable happens.

Peter pushes up on his elbows, throws his head back to pant, and his eyes land square on Henry.

Horrified and paralyzed, Henry’s mouth works in a soundless apology. Valerie tilts her head to follow Peter’s gaze. Swamped with guilt, Henry steps forward.

Peter’s eyes are burning. His lips slowly twist into a grin. Henry calls across the yard, “I’m sorry!”

Valerie tugs Peter’s hair. He grunts and bends down, letting her whisper something in his ear. His grin becomes absolutely _wolfish._

He kisses her sweetly, then turns his attention back to Henry. He answers, “We were going to wait, and do this a better way, but since you’re here... wanna join?”

Henry blinks. He swallows. He doesn’t think he’s processing correctly.

Valerie sighs, “I’m getting cold. Let’s discuss this inside.”

Peter nods. He sits back and fiddles with his clothes, probably tucking himself back in—Henry finally turns away. When he dares glance back, they’re both decently dressed, and Peter’s hiking Valerie up into his arms. 

As he carries her towards the house, she calls, “Henry, come have some tea.”

Dazed, Henry does.


End file.
